It's probably happened to you. You were just shopping in that brand name department store, maybe bent over a rack of designer tees, trying to find that elusive size large... when someone said, "Do you work here?"
And you turned around, cell phone to ear, purse in hand, wearing no name tag, no where near the I stand 11 hours a day kind of comfortable shoes... and yet?
You looked like you belonged there, or they were so desperate for help, they were willing to ask a stranger.
This happens to me a lot.
People don't just ask me for help. They ask me for advice. ( They have no idea they picked the worst candidate possible.)
In the produce section, I get: "Excuse me, but which tomato is best?"
Seriously, dude? I have no clue. Buy the biggest reddest one.
In the home improvement store, I've been asked to weigh in on paint color choices.
White. You can never go wrong with white. Or off- white, more of a cream, really. Anything that has the word "wheat" in it. Yep. That's the one.
And always, always, I am asked for my opinion in the shoe store. I swear.. cross my heart and all of that.
Every single time I step into ANY shoe store, I will be approached no less than two times by absolute strangers who think I am their answer.
Well, I am.
Last night, shopping with a gal pal, I was approached by a young girl who started the conversation with, "This is going to sound strange, but I..."
I almost held up my hand to stop her there, but I let her continue.
"... I have the same tights that you're wearing, and I want to see which of these shoes ( she holds up two black stillettos; one with a lace-up front, one traditional pump), would look better with them, would you mind..."
"Not a problem," I say and follow the girl back to where she and her friend have made a mess of the shoe aisle.. I then try on both pair, trot around in them, suggest the lace up ones, they agree and box up the others. I make my way back to my row.
Within three minutes, a man wearing two different boots comes around the corner. A woman is sitting in front of a few open shoe boxes, texting on her phone. She barely looks up.
The guy is tall, attractive and has that sort of good boy gone bad cowboyish adorable quality.
"Excuse me, may I ask your opinion. I'm trying to decide..."
He lifts his pant legs to show the mismatched boots.
"Which one do you like better?"
The woman glances at me, the boots, the guy, then motions with her phone, and says,"The dark one-" just as I say, "The lighter one."
He smiles at me.
I say, "Are you wearing them with jeans mostly?"
"Yeah."
"Turn around." I look at his ass.
He turns back around.
"Yeah, definitely," I say. "The lighter ones. I like the toe." (and then, shamelessly borrowing from Paris Hilton I add, "They're hot."
He breaks out into a grin. "Thanks."
Moments later I see him at the checkout counter and think, "Man, they should hire me."
( see my pics of the shoes I bought on FACEBOOK.)
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